God I hate confrontation.

I really need to work on this. I met with Warburton this morning to talk about this stupid final essay I’ve been working on, which pretty much debates contextual criticism with new criticism through The Tempest.

I came out of the meeting hyperventilating, with a massacred paper clip and markings all over my paper. I mean, the markings I can deal with, it’s what I wanted. But the hyperventilating and the nervous mutilation of a poor little paper clip I can do without.

It’s not even that she was mean or anything! She was totally nice, and she helped me and told me that it was a good essay and all I have to do is change some stuff. So really, shouldn’t have freaked out, it doesn’t make any sense that I do…but I do, and it sucks. Sheesh Rae, get a grip.